Nightly Endeavors
by KidTantei
Summary: It takes most of her strength to stop herself from attacking Gin-san and throwing herself onto him during the day. By the time nightfall arrives, her strength is drained, and how do people expect her to resist Gin-san lying so serenely in bed? / Warning: mentions of some masochistic things, lots of them.


I'm disappointed that the Gintoki x Sacchan fics on FFN don't even fill a page. D: This is probably the only time I'll write for Gintama, 'cause the humor in that anime/manga is just too unique.

Dedicated to **Scherzkeks** for encouraging me and showing some kind of interest in this, and to **Shuffle Princess **because there are some lines in here that belong to her :") I'm afraid I mention a character that you haven't met yet, though it shouldn't make too much of a difference. I hope.

This isn't really proofread and _don't expect anything else like this ever again from me omg_

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She stares directly at his face, tracing each contour and curve with her eyes, and she feels her cheeks immediately heat up. Ayame always liked Gin-san's face, and the many emotions it could express. When he's happy, angry, sarcastic or sadistic, his face always tells it all.

It's when he's alone (or so he thinks) at night, when he gets those dreadful nightmares about his past that make him groan and toss and turn, that Ayame hates how his face hides nothing. His face scrunches up in pain, and she wants nothing but to give him a hug and lend him her shoulder to cry on – because the only one who should really be crying is her, after Gin-san helps her fulfil her masochistic desires. The pain when she realizes _she can't help him_ is endless, and she can only watch and pray for him to whatever gods might listen.

Ayame hated being unable to do anything but watch.

Her passionate hatred for it is much more than her passionate love for Gin-san and his balls, and that really says something. Gin-san's balls are the most beautiful things in the world, she thinks; not that she's seen them, but she knows she will when he ties her up and after he chains and whips her and does all sorts of things she's always wanted—

She catches herself before she can lose her balance and fall off the ceiling.

Ayame looks again at the silver-haired man below her, snoring away on his futon. The drool dripping down the side of his chin makes her drool also, and her mind wanders to thoughts that should really stay at the back of her mind. But she can't help it. Ayame watches Gin-san laze around and abuse Kagura-chan and Glasses the entire day, and she always wishes she was the one getting abused for his pleasure. It takes most of her strength to stop herself from attacking Gin-san and throwing herself onto him during the day. By the time nightfall arrives, her strength is drained, and _how do people expect her to resist Gin-san lying so serenely in bed?_

But Ayame tries, she really does. She might have lost most of her dignity just by being Sarutobi Ayame, but she likes to think there's still a small shred left, and she's keeping that shred intact by refraining from forcing herself onto Gin-san.

The man plaguing her thoughts twitches in his sleep, and Ayame presses herself closer to the ceiling. With a racing heart and bated breath, she waits for Gin-san's nightmares to start. It normally starts at midnight, when Ayame feels most awake, and according to the justaway, the midnight bells would be tolling by now. Gin-san groans and his eyebrows furrow just a little; and suddenly, his face is peaceful, and his chest rises and falls in calm tempo. It's like he never had nightmares in the first place.

That makes the forty-second time, Ayame thinks. Gin-san had been sleeping more peacefully for the past forty-two nights. She momentarily freezes, trying to think of what forces could possibly be at work. She knows it's not her prayers to random gods – she had been doing that for two hundred and thirty five nights, so if that's the force at work, they should have worked earlier. She racks her brain, thinking of the list of odd jobs and clients she saw in the records Glasses left lying around three days ago. She starts to think it might just be something Gin-san has been eating lately – he _had _been taking in more sugar than normal – when it hits her.

Gin-san was hailed the Savior of Yoshiwara forty-_three_ days ago. Ayame is willing to bet all the whips and chains she owns that it has something to do with Tsukuyo, that chick from Yoshiwara. The woman took 10th place in the second popularity poll, and Ayame doesn't know if that's the cause or effect of Gin-san liking her. She's _sure _Gin-san likes the woman because why else would he stop getting nightmares only after meeting her?

She feels indignant at first. As far as she's concerned, everything is finders keepers, and Tsukky found just one hundred and ninety-three days late. But apparently, the creator of her fate is a gorilla and always begs to differ. Ayame slowly backs up, crawling along the ceiling so that she's no longer directly above the silver-haired man she stalks. She looks at Gin-san's tranquil sleeping face, and the way the small sliver of moonlight from the window makes his silver hair shine like the moon. Her cheeks heat up again. She's not sure if it's because of anger or embarrassment or maybe she's constipated, but she hopes to the kunoichi gods that it's anything _but_ the last one.

Ayame blinks away the water forming in her eyes – someone _stupid _must have planted onion traps in the ceiling – and quickly pushes her glasses up to the bridge of her nose before they can fall. If they fall, it would be Game Over very quickly, like a soccer game between lions and rats. She would be literally kicked out by Gin-san, and she doesn't mind this part so much, but she never liked how on guard Gin-san would be afterwards. He would continuously, repeatedly look up to the ceiling to see if she was there, but by then, she would have changed her position to under the floorboards.

It's a ridiculous game of hide-and-seek, and she always wins.

Sometimes, however, Ayame can't help but wish that for once, she would lose. That Gin-san would look up and _hope_ she was there before she even reveals herself in any way. She wants those dead fish eyes to at least look at her and stare into her soul and _not care_, because it hurts and god help her if she didn't _like_ the hurt.

Her phone vibrates against her leg, and it feels remotely like _something else_, but Ayame tells herself to stop thinking about it and start thinking about the mission she's been assigned through text. She can't let her thoughts of Gin-san distract her, because every time she thinks of Gin-san, everything inside her melts. After that, everything else is bound to come undone.

Masking her presence, she chants a final prayer under her breath before escaping through a trapdoor she specially made in the roof. No way is she going to lose against a fellow ninja, especially one who smokes and works in the red-light district. No way is she going to give up on Gin-san until he agrees to make her his pet and toy for sadism.

No way is she going to give up, because she became as stubborn as a monkey the moment she was named Sarutobi Ayame. Giving up is absolutely _not_ in her dictionary.


End file.
